


we're behind you if you turn around

by seekingsquake



Category: Naruto
Genre: Break Up, Discord: Umino Hours, Gen, Umino Hours Winter Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/pseuds/seekingsquake
Summary: In a state of shock, Iruka goes back to the kitchen and opens the cupboard above the stove. It’s illogical, hysterical, because if that bastard Mizuki would take the towels and the toilet paper and the pictures of Iruka’s students, then there’s nothing he would have left. But when Iruka wants comfort, he reaches for his tin of hot chocolate. It doesn’t matter that there are no mugs or cups or anything that he could drink from; it just matters that it’s there. Even the scent of it would be better than nothing.But the cupboard is empty.Iruka comes home from work to find out he's been left behind. But not by everybody.
Relationships: Sarutobi Asuma & Umino Iruka, past Mizuki/Umino Iruka - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: The Umino Hours Winter Bingo 2020





	we're behind you if you turn around

The kitchen is empty. All of the cupboards have been raided, leaving only dust inside. Everything that had been in the fridge when Iruka left for work this morning is now missing, except for an unopened bottle of ketchup. It’s not just the food that’s gone, though. The dining set that Iruka had bought when they moved in together, the wine glasses that had been his grandmother’s, the wok and the rice cooker and the only good frying pan—

Everything’s gone.

Iruka moves from the kitchen and into the living room, his feet leading him on in slow motion only to find much of the same. The furniture, the knick-knacks, and even all the garbage mail they hadn’t yet sorted through; nothing is there anymore. And the bedroom and bathroom are just as bare. Everything, even things that were only Iruka’s, things that they hadn’t shared, it’s all missing. 

He wants to think that they’ve been robbed, but he knows that isn’t true. Mizuki isn’t here, either. No, this was no robbery.

In a state of shock, Iruka goes back to the kitchen and opens the cupboard above the stove. It’s illogical, hysterical, because if that bastard Mizuki would take the towels and the toilet paper and the pictures of Iruka’s students, then there’s nothing he would have left. But when Iruka wants comfort, he reaches for his tin of hot chocolate. It doesn’t matter that there are no mugs or cups or  _ anything  _ that he could drink from; it just matters that it’s there. Even the scent of it would be better than nothing.

But the cupboard is empty. 

Iruka screams.

❆❆❆

Kotetsu drags Iruka out of the car and into the laneway house he rents with Izumo, furious. “He took Ru’s ski coat and everything,” he snarls as he kicks off his boots and pushes Iruka toward Izumo, who is standing by the couch. “Fucker took Mr. and Mrs. Umino’s wedding photos! What kind of psychopath does that?!”

“Tell me you weren’t keeping their ashes at home,” Izumo murmurs into Iruka’s ear, hugging him tightly.

“At the mausoleum,” Iruka whispers back, eyes closed.

“He took Iruka’s  _ toothbrush,” _ Kotetsu continues, shouting as he storms up the stairs. He’s banging around in the bathroom, probably collecting the set of spare toiletries they keep under the sink. 

❆❆❆

It’s not really a party, but a bunch of people have gathered at Anko’s place, and everyone is varying levels of intoxicated. Iruka is lying on the floor and staring blankly up at the ceiling, the chatter of his friends tuned out in favour of focusing on the electrical hum and groan of Anko’s fridge. “Sounds like a cow,” he mutters to himself.

“Who’s a cow?” Asuma asks as he drops down beside Iruka, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

Iruka sighs deeply and presses the bottom of his beer bottle against his forehead. “Can I leave yet?” he sulks. “I’m tired.”

“No, you’re not; you just want to crawl into bed and cry. Which is fine— anyone in your situation would want that.” Asuma fishes a pack of smokes out from the pocket of the denim vest he’s wearing and waves it at Iruka’s head. “I’ll drive you and the wonder twins back to their place in a bit. Come outside with me first.”

He doesn’t want to, but Iruka rolls over and pushes himself up anyway. Together, he and Asuma go to the back yard and stand on the deck. Asuma lights his smoke, then lights a second one and hands it to Iruka. Iruka hesitates for a moment but ultimately relents, taking a long drag and letting the nicotine relax him. 

It’s been a while since Iruka’s been able to spend any time with Asuma. They’re practically brothers; Asuma’s family had fostered Iruka for a few years before Iruka graduated high school. Asuma, older by only a few years, had been more of a guiding force in Iruka’s life than anyone else at that time. But then Iruka had started dating Mizuki, and Mizuki hadn’t liked how much time Iruka spent with Asuma. Somehow four years passed with Iruka only seeing Asuma on birthdays and special occasions. 

“I’m sorry,” Iruka mumbles around the butt of the cigarette in his mouth.

Asuma is the same as always. He shrugs, then casually drops an arm over Iruka’s shoulders. “No worries, man. Shit gets weird when you date weird people. I’m just glad you reached out to all of us now.”

“I mean, Kotetsu reached out to everyone.”

“But you let him,” Asuma insists. “Kurenai’s been really worried. She’s probably going to be checking in on you a lot, now. Sorry in advance.”

Iruka leans against his friend heavily and slumps. Behind them, the back door squeals as it slides open. There are soft footfalls, and then Kurenai is there, pressing a thermos into Iruka’s hands. “You looked cold,” she says lightly.

A waft of steam rises out from the top of the thermos, and when Iruka gets a whiff of what’s inside, tears immediately spring to his eyes. “You made me hot chocolate?”

“You used to drink it when you were sad,” Asuma’s girlfriend says, kindness almost unbearable on her face. “I thought you could use some cheering up.”

It’s been ten days since Mizuki took off and left him with nothing. From the moment he realized what happened, he’d put up a wall around his emotions and just shut it all down so that he could get his life back in order. It’s been ten days, and this is the first time Iruka’s cried.

The cigarette falls from his mouth, and he curls around the thermos and tries not to sob. Asuma squeezes him, and Kurenai brushes her fingers through the strands of his ponytail.

He slurps a sip of hot chocolate around his tears and stuttering breath. Standing here on the back porch, with the only two people who knew him before everything else: it’s the first time in ten days that he hasn’t felt utterly alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> This piece fills the square "out of hot cocoa", giving me a complete I column!


End file.
